


The Life Model

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [66]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armpit Kink, Art Student Stiles Stilinski, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cocky Derek Hale, Come Inflation, First Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Hairy Derek Hale, Knotting, Large Cock, M/M, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Scent Kink, Self-Lubrication, Top Derek Hale, Uncut Derek Hale, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: When Omega Stiles gets a bad grade in his life drawing class because he finds the Alpha model too distracting to actually draw anything, the Alpha convinces his teacher to give him a second chance. In private. What could possibly happen?





	The Life Model

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poke360](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poke360/gifts), [clavius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clavius/gifts).



> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written…
> 
>  **PLAYLIST:**  
>  All the Time - Zara Larsson

Omega Stiles sits on a stool in his art classroom and taps a charcoal pencil against his knee as he waits for the lesson to begin. His fellow students are all there too—Omegas, Betas and Alphas alike, each one of them with a large canvas in front of them on a rickety old easel.

They're supposed to be finishing up the module on life drawing today. After a few weeks spent drawing inanimate objects like the stereotypical fruit bowl, they're finally moving on to drawing a live model. They've been given no more information than that, as far as Stiles is aware, so no one knows exactly what to expect. At the front of the classroom is an old chaise lounge, upon which Stiles suspects the model will recline for them to draw. He hopes it won't be anyone too off-putting. His teacher, a venerated woman named Mrs. Adler, has talked before about how everything is beautiful in its own way and has its own value, but there are still some people Stiles has no desire to see naked.

As time ticks on, the anticipation in the room gets worse, and when two sets of footsteps approach from the hallway outside, Stiles can actually hear everyone's breathing cease at once. He looks at the door just as it opens and Mrs. Adler enters the room, her greying hair done up in a bun on the back of her head. He doesn't dedicate much more attention to her. How can he, when following behind her is probably the hottest Alpha he has ever seen?

The Alpha wears sandals on his feet, and his calves are bare. From his knees up to his neck, the rest of him is covered by a fluffy white robe that's tied tightly at the waist, but Stiles knows that will soon change. And his face…well, Stiles doesn't really know how to describe it. The Alpha's features are pretty yet rugged, with dark stubble along a strong jaw, thin lips, a blade-like nose and thick eyebrows. It's his eyes that really enchant Stiles—beneath the florescent lights shining down from the ceiling, they seem to glow, their hazel colour almost luminescent in its intensity.

Fuck.

Stiles fidgets on his stool and realises to his mortification that he's begun to slick. He has to get ahold of himself before someone smells it.

"Class, allow me to introduce you all to Derek Hale," Mrs. Adler says, gesturing to the Alpha next to her. "He's been kind enough to offer his services today."

There's a series of hellos as the other students present greet the Alpha, but Stiles can't find it in himself to speak. When he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a croak.

For the next minute, Mrs. Alder prattles on about what they're supposed to be doing, reminding everyone of what to look out for and the criteria on which she'll be grading them all. Stiles doesn't hear any of it, and then she walks to the back of the room and Derek reaches for the belt of his robe and unties it. He slides the fluffy garment off of his shoulders and allows it to fall to the floor, revealing six feet of nude perfection.

If Stiles thought he was slicking before, it's nothing compared to _deluge_ that seeps from his hole now.

How on earth is he supposed to do this?

He gets a brief glimpse of a nest of dark curls and a soft but impressive cock, and then Derek turns around and positions himself on the chaise lounge. He sits with his back against the support at one end, his profile facing the room. He keeps his arms at his sides and has his left leg extended all the way along the sofa, while his right is bent so that his crotch is somewhat covered. Stiles is both disappointed and glad—he'd like to see more of that crotch, but at the same time, it being hidden should help him concentrate better. Maybe.

"Alright, you've got one hour," Mrs. Adler says loudly from the back of the room. "Begin."

Stiles raises his charcoal pencil to his canvas and attempts to draw, but every time he looks back at Derek, he ends up staring for way longer than he should.

Time passes with shocking speed, and then Mrs. Alder tells everyone to put their tools down. Stiles does so, but when he looks at his canvas, he already knows he's screwed. He barely drew anything—all he has is an outline, and even that's no good, the lines shaky and far below his skill level.

He's totally going to fail.

When he shakes off his disappointment with himself, Stiles notes that Derek has the robe on again—sadly—and is staring right at him. The emotion in his eyes is something Stiles has never seen directed at him before. He doesn't know what to make of it.

"Leave your canvases here and go to lunch," Mrs. Adler tells the class, walking to the front of the classroom again. "When you come back, you'll have your grades and we'll move onto the next module."

There's a commotion as the other students pick up their bags and file out of the classroom chatting animatedly with each other. Stiles follows them, dejected and talking to no one. He can't stop himself from glancing back just before he walks through the door, and again he finds Derek staring at him, even as Mrs. Adler talks to him about something. Stiles is so caught in Derek's gaze that he accidentally bumps into the doorjamb, which only adds to his humiliation.

He hightails it down the hallway, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole before he has to return and face his failing grade.

* * *

At the weekend, Stiles sits in his apartment and wallows in his feelings of failure with a huge bowl of popcorn and a sad movie playing on his laptop, which he has positioned on the coffee table in front of him. He was right—when he came back to the art classroom after not eating anything for lunch because he was too nauseated to do so, Mrs. Adler harangued him on his lack of effort and gave him a look of disappointment so deep that it shook him to his core. His college career isn't over by any means, but he's always hated disappointing people. He believes that disappointment is much worse than anger and so much more effective because of it.

So here he is, stuffing his face like a loser and dreading the start of next week, when he'll have to work hard to redeem himself.

Fat chance.

It's just as the denouement of the movie has begun that Stiles hears a knock on his door. He considers not getting up to answer it, but then whoever it is knocks again, more forcefully this time, and Stiles sighs as he hears his mother's voice in his head. He may be feeling down, but that's no excuse to be rude, she tells him, so he puts down his popcorn, pauses the movie and walks over to the door.

A look through the peephole reveals nothing to him but a bunch of white, leaving him both confused and curious. He opens the door and immediately has to leap sideways to avoid being crushed when the person on the other side barges in without an invitation. They're carrying a large canvas—the white thing he saw through the peephole—so Stiles can't see who it is right away. He's about to ask them what they think they're doing, coming inside without his say-so, but then they lower the canvas to lean it against the wall and the words freeze on Stiles' tongue because it's Derek Hale, the life model from earlier in the week.

Today, Derek wears a pair of dark jeans with a rip in one knee, a red henley with a deep V-neck and a black leather jacket on top, a much different ensemble to the last time they saw each other.

Stiles feels like a frowsy slob in one of his Dad's old T-shirts and a pair of his own grey sweatpants, which…fuck! Which have a piece of buttery popcorn stuck to them.

Well then.

"Uhh…what?" Stiles asks eloquently, praying that Derek won't notice his state. He clears his throat and tries again. "What're you doing here?"

_Much better. Good job, Stiles._

"You failed the class," Derek says simply. He flicks his eyes over to the still-open door and then back to Stiles, raising one eyebrow pointedly.

Stiles closes the door. "Yeah. That doesn't answer my question, though."

"I thought it was unfortunate, so…" Derek gestures to the clean canvas he brought with him. "Luckily for you, I was able to convince your teacher to give you a do-over."

"Y-you were?" Stiles is shocked. "Why would you do that?"

Derek lips quirk up into a smirk that's both infuriating and endearing. "Because I'm a nice guy."

"Sure."

"And because your teacher showed me some of your other work while she was ranting about you, and I felt like such a pretty, talented Omega deserved a second chance."

Pretty. Derek just called him pretty. Blood rushes to Stiles' face and he gapes like a doofus, unable to believe it. "Is that…is that why you're here now?"

"Yup. I'm here to life model for you again. In private."

Without being told to, Derek walks over to the sofa Stiles had just been sitting on, shrugs out of his leather jacket and folds it over the back. He has the hem of his henley in hand when Stiles rushes over to him and grabs his wrist to stop him from getting any more naked. There's another voice in his head now, urging him to climb Derek like a tree. It sounds suspiciously like Erica, one of his best friends, who would _definitely_ persuade him to do something like that. He doesn't listen to her.

"Wait!" he exclaims instead, tightening his grip around Derek's wrist.

"What? Don't you want to improve your grade?" the Alpha questions, peering down into Stiles' eyes. His expression is…hungry.

"I do, but…but…"

"But what?"

"But if you get naked, then…"

Derek chuckles, but not unkindly. "Then you'll get distracted by my hotness again?"

Stiles chokes on his own breath and then, to save face, scoffs. "Someone's got an ego on him."

"Just being honest. I know I'm an attractive man."

Stiles doesn't agree with or refute that claim, even though both of them know it's not a claim. It's fact.

"Well, if you _really_ don't want my help," Derek says, releasing the hem of his henley, "I guess I'll go. It's a shame. I was looking forward to life modelling for you again."

Derek picks his jacket up again and ventures back over to the door, his gait slow as molasses. As the Alpha brushes past him, Stiles gets his first proper whiff of his scent, and it's so amazing that it has him slicking again and almost makes his legs give out. As it is, his knees quiver and he has to make a concerted effort to prevent himself from whining—the plaintive sound of an Omega calling an Alpha to mate with them. It's a close thing because, fuck, Derek's scent… It's musky and masculine, and it carries a hint of cinnamon that for some reason reminds Stiles of home. Of lying together with someone, their bellies full of fresh, warm cinnamon rolls and contentment in their hearts.

Where did that image come from?

Stiles can't figure it out, and then he forgets all about it when he sees Derek put his hand on the door handle. Despite his earlier reluctance, he can't let him leave.

"Stop!" he commands, rushing over to the Alpha and insinuating himself between him and the door.

"Did you change your mind?" Derek asks, that infuriating smirk firmly back in place.

"Yes," Stiles says without thinking about it. "Let's do it."

The dual meaning doesn't escape him, and it mustn't escape Derek either because his smirk gets impossibly wider and his pupils dilate slightly.

"Alright then." Derek's nostrils flare as he inhales through his nose, no doubt picking up on the sweetness of Stiles' slick. "Get your art supplies ready."

Stiles scrambles to do just that, his inner Omega unable to deny the whims of an Alpha he's so interested in.

Speaking of interest—there's flirting happening between them, but is that all it is? Harmless flirting? As Stiles retrieves a charcoal pencil and sets the clean canvas up on the easel his Dad was kind enough to buy him when he got into art school, he ponders this quandary without coming to any sort of satisfactory conclusion. It _could_ be real. Derek _could_ actually be interested in him too, but then again, that wouldn't make sense, would it? Not when Derek is so far out of his league that they're playing different sports.

So…is it harmless flirting after all?

Dissatisfied with this answer, Stiles shuts down that train of thought because it won't lead him anywhere good. He's got a job to do, and he doesn't want to waste Derek's time.

Stiles makes himself concentrate on getting the last of his supplies ready and in the right positions. He moves the coffee table out of the way so that he can put the easel there, facing away from the sofa upon which Derek will sit like he sat on the chaise lounge.

Finished with the setup, Stiles picks up his charcoal pencil and switches his attention to Derek. He finds the Alpha already naked and in place.

"Oh, you're ready," Stiles comments dumbly, blinking.

"Obviously."

Stiles flushes red. "Well…I guess I'd better get started then."

Derek winks at him and then turns his head so that he's facing the opposite end of the sofa, perfectly mirroring the pose he'd taken during Stiles' first attempt.

The Omega is dilatory when it comes to actually putting his pencil to the canvas. Once again, he's too distracted by Derek's presence in front of him. He has an Alpha in his apartment— _he_ , Stiles Stilinski, one of the losers of Beacon Hills High, has a naked, sexy-as-hell Alpha sitting on his sofa. The mere thought sends a frisson of excitement down his spine. Oh, if the people who used to bully him—the people who said that he'd never garner the attention of an Alpha for as long as he lived—could see him now, they'd be eating their words.

To make himself draw, Stiles tamps down his giddiness, pictures Mrs. Adler's face in his mind and discovers that it's actually quite effective. It's not enough to completely prevent any lascivious staring on Stiles' part, but he figures that some things just can't be helped, no matter what.

When he actually focuses on the picture slowly coming to life on his canvas, he's fastidious in his efforts, aiming to prove to Mrs. Adler that he can do this. Each of his lines is precise and expertly drawn, displaying the talent that got him into art school in the first place. But whenever he has to look at back at Derek to memorise the next part of his body, well…that's when his focus slips.

For half an hour, things proceed reasonably well, and Stiles creates a good-looking image on the canvas. But then he realises he has two major problems:

One—there's a wet patch forming on the back of his sweatpants.

And two—a boner tents the front of them.

Fortunately, it's all concealed from Derek's sight by the canvas and easel, but Stiles has no doubt that the Alpha will still be able to scent his arousal in the air. He can't ignore his predicament now that he's aware of it, so he sets his charcoal pencil down on the rest at the bottom of the easel and excuses himself, claiming that he needs a short bathroom break. He scurries down the hallway to his left, shuts himself in the bathroom and leans against the door, cursing his body for betraying him.

"Fuck you," he hisses down at his traitorous cock. Why couldn't it behave itself?

Acquiescing to the desires of his body, Stiles shoves down his sweatpants and wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself off. He does it hard and fast.

Shutting his eyes, Stiles imagines himself back in the living room with Derek. He pictures Derek's amazing body, his hirsute chest and the trail of hair that leads down from his bellybutton to join the nest of pubes just above his soft Alpha cock. Damn, does Stiles ever want to know what Derek looks like when he's erect. He wants more than that too, would _love_ to know what it's like for Derek to pin him down and pound his wet, needy hole into oblivion.

God, he's sure it would be so fucking good!

Stiles' toes curl as his orgasm overcomes him. He spurts his thin Omega seed all over the tiled floor, and one strong jet even hits the toilet across from him. He pants softly as he comes down from his high and inspects the mess. He's got some cleanup to do before he can show his face back in the living room, so he gets it over with quickly using some toilet tissue.

Once he's finished, he's soft again and his arousal is back to a more manageable level, no more slick leaking from his hole, so he feels confident enough to leave the bathroom. He makes a stop in his bedroom to change into a different pair of sweatpants, and then he reenters the living room.

Derek says nothing at first, so Stiles thinks he might have got away with it. But as he picks up his pencil, the Alpha breaks his silence:

"Have fun in there?" Derek enquires, blinking innocently at Stiles. He's still in the same position as when the Omega left.

Stiles aims for nonchalant and knows he fails spectacularly when his voice cracks. "What d'you mean?"

"I can smell it on you, you know."

"Smell what?"

Derek drops the innocent act, his hazel eyes smouldering. "Right now, you reek of come and slick."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stiles fibs, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"Your body language says otherwise," Derek says huskily. "I know you just jerked off to me in there."

"No, you don't."

"I do. You made this adorable little whimpering sound when you came. I heard it, plain as day."

Oh shit.

"Don't worry," Derek continues, grinning now. "I understand."

"Why? Because you have a big ego?" Stiles snarks, a defence mechanism.

"I've got a big something, alright. You'd be able to smell it, if you stopped freaking out for just a second."

Against his better judgment, Stiles breathes in through his nose and sure enough, he detects an increase of the Alpha's scent in the air. It's more musky now. "Are you…are you hard?" he dares to ask.

"Yup." To prove it, Derek lowers the leg he'd been using to hide his crotch all this time, and Stiles' eyes nearly bug out of their sockets when he sees the Alpha's throbbing erection. It must be nine inches long, at least. "See?" Derek says smugly, shifting around slightly so that his back is against the corner of the sofa instead of the armrest and one foot is on the ground. This allows Stiles to see the Alpha's balls too, which hang low over his perineum. They're proportional to his cock—full and weighty with come.

"Are you messing with me?" Stiles squeaks. He'd love it if his suspicions about the cause of Derek's arousal were true, but he's been burned by an Alpha pretending to like him before and won't go through that again.

"Nope." Derek rests his arm over the back of the sofa, looking like a king.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then…what happens now?" Stiles asks nervously.

"Well, I'd say you should keep drawing, but somehow I don't think that teacher of yours would like it much if you turned in a sketch with my hard cock in it."

"N-no, she wouldn't…"

Derek gets a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Then I guess you'll have to help me take care of it before you can finish up your drawing."

Stiles can guess what the Alpha means, but he still has to make sure. "And by 'help', you mean…?"

Taking pity on him, Derek gets up from the sofa walks over to Stiles, his huge cock swaying back and forth with each step. When he's right in front of the Omega, Stiles is again struck by how tall and imposing Derek is. At 5'8" himself, he's tall for an Omega, but he's used to most Alphas being bigger than him. It's just a fact of their secondary genders. Something about Derek, though, makes the disparity between their sizes even more noticeable. After his experiences in high school, Stiles would usually be intimidated to have an Alpha this close to him, but right now, all he can feel is a burning in his gut and the emptiness of his ass. It's desperate to be filled, and it only gets more intense when Derek leans down and whispers in his ear:

"I mean that I'm gonna fuck your cute little ass," the Alpha says. "Then, after you've finished your drawing, I'm taking you out for dinner. Sound good?"

Stiles' whole body shakes with need, and more slick leaks from his hole. He can only nod, but that's enough.

"That's what I thought," Derek says, pleased. "Let's move this to your bed."

Acceding willingly to the Alpha's demands, Stiles leads the way to his bedroom as if he's in a trance, hardly believing that this is happening. It seems too good to be true, but he doesn't back out.

When they reach his bedroom, Derek pushes the door to, walks over to his bed and makes himself comfortable on it like he owns the place. Such arrogance should annoy Stiles, but he can't stop himself from thinking about how right it looks to have Derek in his bed. Like he belongs there. And if the date Derek's going to take him on later goes well…he could. That's a dangerous thought to have so soon, but Stiles can't help himself. He's always wanted an Alpha of his own—that's why the bullying in high school affected him so much—and for some reason, he trusts Derek not to hurt him like all those other Alphas did.

He'll go along with it until he's given a reason to be concerned.

"Well? Are you just gonna stand there, Stiles?" Derek asks him amusedly.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Stiles apologises quietly and moves over to the bed too. He stands at the foot of it and just stares at the vision Derek makes.

The Alpha has his hands tucked behind his head on the pillows, and his legs are spread lazily, his cock sticking straight up in the air. Stiles licks his lips as he looks at it, wondering what it would feel like on his tongue, how it would taste. He's going to find out soon, but first, Stiles thinks the playing field needs levelling a bit. He swiftly strips out of his clothes and feels his confidence grow when Derek sees his body and growls lowly to give his approval.

"Come up here," the Alpha orders, his eyes beginning to glow bright-red.

"Y-yes, Alpha," Stiles stammers. The title falls from his lips without thought, and he doesn't try to take it back.

Once he's up on the bed too, kneeling between Derek's calves, he doesn't quite know what to do next. He's seen porn, and he's had sex once before, but it wasn't good.

"How about you get nice and familiar with my body?" Derek suggests, diagnosing the problem correctly. "You never know—it might help with your drawing."

Stiles cracks a smile at the joke and forces himself to stop being so hesitant. He clears his mind of everything else but the two of them alone in this room and runs with Derek's suggestion, tackling this as though he really is researching Derek's body so that he can better recreate it on canvas.

First, Stiles skates his fingers up the arch of Derek's foot and snorts when it twitches and the muscles of Derek's leg tense up. "Ticklish?"

"Maybe," the Alpha admits.

"That's cute."

"Shut up."

Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and resumes what he was doing. He runs his rapt gaze and his hands over every part of Derek's body he can reach, noting every dark hair, the light tan colouring his skin, every dip and plane of muscle. He smooths his hands up Derek's thick legs and enjoys the way the hairs feel beneath his palms. He does it again and then bypasses the Alpha's erection to spend what is probably too much time admiring his abs and the dark trail that runs down the centre of them.

Derek doesn't prompt Stiles to move on until he's ready, and when he is, he goes further up—Derek's pecs are dusted with more dark hairs in a diamond shape. His chest hair starts at his collarbones and then tapers down into a V, leaving the outsides of his pecs smooth except for around his nipples. Stiles has never given much thought to hairy vs. smooth before, and he's glad now that he doesn't really have to. It's almost like he gets the best of both worlds with Derek.

He's Hannah Montana.

Kneeling at Derek's side, Stiles finds that he can pick up his scent better. He follows his nose to the source.

"Something got your attention?" Derek enquires. His face has a pleasant flush to it.

"Maybe."

"Well, don't let me stop you."

"Wasn't gonna."

Wanting to get more of that delectable scent, Stiles puts a hand on the centre of Derek's chest to support himself and leans down so that his face is close to the Alpha's armpit. The scent emanates from the dark tufts of hair there, and Stiles' eyelids flutter as he breathes it in. It goes right to his hole, causing it clench around nothing like it has a consciousness of its own and knows that it's so near to a virile Alpha who can fill it up.

 _Soon,_ Stiles tells himself. _But first…_

"You really like my scent," Derek observes. He removes his other hand from behind his head and cups the side of Stiles' face.

"Yeah…s'good…" Stiles assents.

"Then here, have some more."

That's all the warning Stiles gets before Derek moves his hand to the back of his head and pulls him down so that his face ends up smushed in the Alpha's pit. Stiles fights it instinctually at first, but then he thinks, what is he doing? He _wants_ this.

He allows the fight to leave his body and rubs his face up and down in Derek's armpit, embedding its musk into his pores. Each time he breathes in, Derek's scent is all he gets, so strong that it easily blocks out everything else in his bedroom. He can just about detect a faint trace of Derek's deodorant, but the majority of the scent is all man.

All _Alpha_.

Fuck, does Stiles ever love it. It makes him want to present himself.

"That's it," Derek coos above him, his hand exerting no pressure on Stiles' head now that Stiles isn't fighting. "You love your Alpha's scent, don't you?"

Stiles moans. Yes…his Alpha. _His_.

"How about you taste me too?"

Stiles can do that. He parts his lips and tentatively licks over a tuft of Derek's pit hair, and when the taste of it bursts salty over his taste buds, he really gets into it. He swipes his tongue in broad strokes over Derek's armpit like he's grooming it, matting down the hairs so that they look even darker.

"Good boy," Derek murmurs, a piece of praise that has Stiles feeling giddy inside.

For another minute or so, Stiles remains where he is, and then he switches to the other side of the bed so that he can do the exact same thing with Derek's other armpit. He doesn't lose any of his enthusiasm, diving right in with gusto, and when he's done, he sits back on his heels and looks down at Derek with hazy eyes. He feels lightheaded and almost as if he's high, and he's not complaining about it. He really enjoyed it and hopes that he'll get to sniff his Alpha's sexy pits again soon.

But right now, there's another part of Derek's body that has so far been neglected.

When Stiles is able to think straight again, he returns to his spot between Derek's legs and wraps a hand around the Alpha's erection. The fat head is still partially concealed by Derek's foreskin, and the shaft is so thick that his fingers don't touch his thumb. He can only imagine what it'll be like when the knot swells at the base. Just thinking about it has Stiles worrying at his bottom lip to hold back another moan. He wants nothing more than for the Alpha's knot to stretch his hole wide and tie them together so that all of Derek's come stays inside. He's longs for it so much that it feels like he's in heat, even though his next heat's not due to hit for another month.

Derek chooses then to buck his hips up into Stiles' grip, urging him on. Stiles takes the cue and strokes up and down the shaft a few times, getting a proper feel for it. Having none himself, he's entranced by how Derek's foreskin peels back from the head and then hides it again on every upstroke, like a perverted game of Peekaboo.

Stiles thinks he likes this version a lot better.

Temporarily releasing Derek's cock, he gets his legs out from under him so that he can lie down on his front with Derek's crotch right in front of his face.

Once he's comfortable again, leaning up on one elbow, Stiles takes Derek back in hand and resumes stroking him as he nuzzles his wrinkled ballsack. There's more of that musky smell here, different from his pits but no less enjoyable. It's just the right side of unwashed, not from a lack of good personal hygiene but from a day spent being active. He sucks one of Derek's balls into his mouth and laves over it with his tongue, the fine hairs tickling his taste buds.

"That's it, baby," Derek encourages him with a groan, spreading his legs even wider. "Just like that."

Stiles draws Derek's other ball into his mouth too and then spares a few moments to nose even lower, digging the bottom half of his face into the mattress so that he can get at Derek's perineum as well. He frets for a few seconds about Derek's reaction to this—not a lot of Alphas would ever let someone get close to their asshole—but he finds out as he laps over Derek's tight little pucker a couple times that this particular Alpha isn't like the others.

All Derek does is groan even louder. Interesting.

Saving this discovery for another time, Stiles gets up onto his elbow again and aims the head of Derek's cock at his lips. He sticks out the tip of his tongue to taste the clear pre-come leaking copiously from the slit. It's salty and bitter, just as he was expecting, but there's also something sweet about it somehow. Addicting. Stiles seals his lips around the head and peers up Derek's body as he takes him into his mouth. He's enraptured by the thin sheen of sweat he can see glistening over all the Alpha's muscles, over his heaving chest. It makes him look even more like a god.

Having only given head once in his life, Stiles very quickly triggers his gag reflex and pulls off spluttering, ending it before it even really began.

"Careful," Derek cautions, sitting up to check that the Omega is okay.

"I'm fine," Stiles chokes out, his eyes stinging.

Derek skates a finger over Stiles' cheek, just beneath his eye, and it comes away wet.

"I didn't ruin the mood, did I?" Stiles asks. He'd hate himself if he did.

"No." Derek sucks the Omega's tear off of his finger and seems to like the taste. "You didn't ruin anything."

"Oh." Stiles sits back on his heels, stunned. "Good."

"D'you wanna try again? Or is it finally my turn to have my way with you?"

Just the thought of feeling Derek's hands on him is enough to have Stiles agreeing. He'll have another go at blowing the Alpha some other time, when his wounded pride has recovered a bit.

He nods ardently, and Derek gives him a grin full of too-sharp teeth, his wolf right beneath the surface.

"Excellent."

Before Stiles knows it, he's lying on his front in the spot Derek had just occupied. He has a pillow stuffed beneath his hips, which provides some delicious friction to his small Omega cock. He doesn't really get a chance to chase it, though, because he then feels Derek's hands on his ass cheeks.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me, baby," Derek says, his voice filled with awe. "I must really get to you, huh?"

There's that arrogance again, but Stiles still doesn't mind it. He also registers for the first time what the Alpha called him. Being Derek's baby sounds perfect to him, so he arches his back to push his ass into Derek's palms, silently asking him to finally fill him up with that prodigious cock of his.

"I'm gonna eat you out, and then I'll fuck you," Derek tells him, right before he spreads Stiles' cheeks apart and licks a long stripe up the crack. He does this several times with short breaks in between to swallow the slick that he collected on his tongue, and then he concentrates his efforts right over Stiles' hole. He swirls his tongue in small circles around it, coaxing it to open up for him, and once it has, he slips his tongue inside and licks over Stiles' inner walls, drinking down the Omega's slick before it has a chance to leave his body.

Stiles is in heaven. This is a first for him, rimming, and he can definitely understand now why all the Omegas in porn sound like they're being murdered. He initially muffles his own sounds by hiding his face in the bedding, but then Derek shocks him by spanking his ass hard.

"None of that hiding bullshit," Derek growls at him. "I wanna hear you."

Stiles whines. He's embarrassed, but he complies and turns his head to the side so that the next noises that spill from his lips are loud and clear.

"Good boy," Derek calls him again, only this time he follows it up with more: "So good for your Alpha."

Stiles shivers, both from being called a good boy and because Derek resumes rimming him. It's like the Alpha wants to see how deep he can get his tongue—and it turns out that it's pretty damn deep. Not enough to reach Stiles' prostate or anything, but the sensitive nerve endings of his inner walls sing as Derek licks over them again and again.

Eventually, a thick finger joins Derek's tongue and goes even deeper, right up to the last knuckle. Stiles cries out when Derek crooks it just right and finds his prostate in no time at all. It's like he already knows just what to do to play Stiles' body like an instrument, to bring him to yet another new height of pleasure. This revelation causes a dark thought to enter Stiles' brain, and he wonders how many other Omegas Derek has done this to in order to be so damn good at it. He's not usually the jealous type, but just the idea of other Omegas getting to experience Derek like this taps into something base and animalistic inside of him.

Derek is _his_ , damnit!

He swiftly suppresses the green monster and doesn't allow similar thoughts to break through, because right now, Derek is here with _him_.

Derek wants to be with _him_.

It was _him_ that he offered to take out after he finishes life modelling.

It was _him_ who Derek called baby. _Him_ who Derek called a good boy.

Reminding himself of all of this goes a long way to soothing the jealous beast inside of Stiles. He's able to focus better on what's being done to him, and just in time too because it's then that Derek slides a third finger inside of Stiles' hole—when did he add the second?—to stretch it for his massive cock.

"Alpha…" Stiles rasps.

"Almost there," Derek says, running his other hand down Stiles' spine to keep him grounded.

He continues to stretch Stiles' soaking-wet hole until he's able to fit a fourth finger inside with little trouble. After that, he removes all of them and crawls forward to blanket Stiles' body with his own. The weight of him is comforting, while Derek's hot breath on the shell of his ear and the feeling of Derek's thick cock slotting into the crack of his ass has Stiles more desperate than ever. He feels like a total slut as he pushes back onto it, wanting to be filled—no, _needing_ it, maybe more than he has ever needed anything before.

"Shh, I've got you. I'm gonna push inside now, alright?" Derek apprises him. "Gonna give us what we both want."

"Please…"

Derek reaches between their bodies, grabs his cock and aims the head at Stiles' loosened hole. The initial penetration is difficult, even with all the prep. Stiles is an Omega, so his body is literally made to take an Alpha's cock inside of it like this, but nature didn't account for the cock being quite as big as Derek's is. It's a lot of work for the Alpha to sheath himself to the hilt, requires a lot of stopping and starting that has both of them frustrated but unable to do anything to change it.

Well, that's not entirely true—if he really wanted to, Derek could do away with his care and fuck Stiles hard and fast right away, leaving him writhing in pain instead of pleasure. But he doesn't, and Stiles is incredibly grateful. To him, it's another sign that Derek was serious about his interest in seeing where things go between them after this is all done.

Once he's all the way inside, Derek lays his full weight atop Stiles and presses kisses to the side of his neck and face.

"Tickles," Stiles says in between giggles, Derek's stubble scraping over his skin.

" _Mine_ …" Derek growls, lingering on Stiles' neck with his next kiss. He adds in some sucking and nipping, leaving marks on the pale flesh.

"Yours," is Stiles' automatic response, because he is. It's just the hormones talking, but if Derek showed a desire to claim him as his mate here and now, Stiles honestly wouldn't stop him.

A few minutes pass while Stiles' body acclimates to being filled so completely, to the point where there mustn't be any empty space left—and the knot hasn't even been brought into play yet. He can practically feel Derek's cock in his throat, and he wouldn't be shocked if he wedged a hand beneath himself to prod at his stomach and found that it was no longer flat.

Soon, what started as a burning sensation as muscles that might as well have been virginal were put through their paces turns into a low, pleasant ache. Stiles is able to unclench his hands, disentangling his fingers from the sheets before he accidentally rips them. Derek leaves more hickeys on him all the while, laying his claim on Stiles without actually breaking skin and binding them together. By the time Stiles thinks he's ready, his neck must be a mosaic of small bruises. He'll wear each and every one of them with pride, purely because it was Derek who put them there.

"Alright, you can move now," Stiles tells him, craning his neck around to meet his gaze.

"Thank god," Derek breathes.

He kisses Stiles on the lips as he begins the long process of withdrawing his cock from the Omega's hole. Each inch that leaves Stiles makes him feel as though he's been hollowed out. He doesn't like it, and he whimpers into the kiss in hopes of spurring Derek into pushing back inside where he wants him. It works, and when the head of Derek's cock is all that remains in his hole, the Alpha thrusts his thick shaft back in and sets a slow pace that gradually speeds up as Stiles loosens around him even more.

Another couple minutes later, Derek fucks Stiles hard enough for his heavy balls to slap against Stiles' smaller ones. Stiles gasps and moans each time it happens.

"That's it!" Derek grits out, his teeth bared. "Take my cock like a good bitch!"

Hot damn, should being called a bitch not affect Stiles like it does. It's a term usually used in a derogatory fashion by posturing, hotheaded Alphas, but it only serves to turn Stiles on. It's just a fantasy, so he indulges himself and thinks that, yeah, he's Derek's bitch, ripe and ready to be bred up.

Soon enough, Stiles detects something even bigger than Derek's cock demanding entrance to his body. He squeezes his eyes shut and mewls when he realises that it's Derek's knot, swelling up big in preparation for tying them together. He shoves himself back as much as he can with each of the Alpha's thrusts in an effort to get it inside quicker.

The effort pays off when, finally, Stiles' hole is stretched to its limit as Derek's knot pops in and safely swells the rest of the way past Stiles' rim. This unfortunately brings about the end of the hard fucking he'd been enjoying, but it's worth it when he clenches around the knot and it presses unremittingly against his prostate, bringing his second orgasm closer and closer.

When Derek grinds his hips against Stiles' ass cheeks, instinctively seeking to get impossibly deeper inside, Stiles shoots. He throws his head back on a silent cry, nearly breaking Derek's nose with the back of his head, and soaks the pillow his cock is trapped against. At the same time, Derek bites into his shoulder, not breaking skin, and begins to fill him up with thick Alpha come.

It goes on and on and on, until it's so intense that Stiles blacks out.

* * *

By the time Stiles comes to again, Derek has rolled them both onto their sides and has him wrapped up snug in his muscular arms, spooning him. They're still tied together, and when Stiles peers down at his own body, he sees that his belly _definitely_ has a slight bulge to it now, like he's several months pregnant with Derek's child. It's a surprisingly nice concept, but it's also scary because he's nowhere near ready to become a parent. He doesn't believe that Derek is either, so after prodding tentatively at his belly, Stiles locks the concept away in the back of his mind, not to be revisited until years in the future if he and Derek are still involved with each other.

"You back in the land of the living?" Derek asks him quietly, nuzzling the tooth impressions he left on the side of Stiles' neck.

"Yeah…" Stiles wiggles in place and snuggles back into the Alpha's embrace, content. "That was amazing."

"Yeah, it was."

"How long 'til your knot goes down?"

"Why? You not enjoying the post-coital cuddles or something?"

"No, I am! They're great too," Stiles reassures, even though Derek was just teasing him. "I'm just looking forward to that date you promised me."

Derek hums and holds him tighter. "Me too. I'm in the mood for steak after that. Worked up quite the sweat."

Saliva fills Stiles' mouth. "I could go for some steak."

"It's a plan, then."

It takes another fifteen minutes for Derek's knot to go down. To pass the time, Stiles engages him in a game of 20 Questions and learns a lot:

Derek's from the same town as him.

He has two sisters, Laura and Cora, who are older and younger, respectively.

He's actually a fireman who took the life modelling gig as a favour for Mrs. Adler, an old friend of the family.

He enjoys reading mystery novels in his spare time and doesn't watch much TV.

His favourite colour is blue.

He sometimes likes to be the little spoon.

For each answer Derek gives him, Stiles gives an answer of his own so that Derek gets to know him a bit better too. It works, and when Derek's knot finally goes down enough for his softening cock to slip out of Stiles' hole, Stiles feels closer to the Alpha and his hopes for their date going well are through the roof. They don't actually have that much in common, but he has always been a big believer in the whole opposites-attract thing.

Following a quick shared shower, Stiles and Derek go back into the living room. Stiles doesn't have that much more to do to his drawing, just some shading and fine detail work, so it only takes half an hour for him to complete it to a level he feels will make up for his abysmal first effort earlier in the week. Derek puts his clothes back on—a crying shame, but a necessity if they want to leave the apartment—and then Stiles grabs his phone and keys and leads the way out into the hall. He locks the door behind them, and as they make their way outside to go to dinner, Stiles feels Derek slip a hand into his.

He looks down at their joined hands and then at Derek's face to find Derek smiling back at him. It's softer than any of the smiles he's given the Omega before, and a matching expression appears on Stiles' face as they walk down the street together.

Derek showing up at his apartment was an unexpected turn of events, but Stiles is happy he did.

His life is looking up.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I wrote a longer PWP again! \o/ It's been a while since I wrote one of this length that consisted of a single smut scene and wasn't split into multiple chapters, so I'm pretty proud of myself. I suppose this prompt just spoke to me. I tried to keep my signature blend of kink and fluff throughout, and I think I succeeded big time. I'm very happy with how this turned out and would like to say a big thank you to Poke360 for giving me this prompt. I hope it was everything you wanted it to be. I'd also like to say thanks to clavius, who urged me to write about Derek's sexy armpits again. You're welcome! ;)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Stiles realises that just because a guy's tall and has big muscles, it doesn't mean he wants to top. Let's break those stereotypes, people! Top!Stiles/power-bottom!Derek.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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